


everything (at your fingertips)

by jessicawhitly



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 06:20:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23846608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessicawhitly/pseuds/jessicawhitly
Summary: It’s routine now that sometime after dinner, Joyce curls up on the couch and inevitably falls asleep; she never means to- tells him she’s just getting off her feet for a minute, usually turns the television on for the noise, and ends up sound asleep, cheek pressed to the pillow.
Relationships: Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper
Comments: 7
Kudos: 52





	everything (at your fingertips)

**Author's Note:**

> This is truly just a pointless little self-indulgent thing- I know babyfic is hit or miss in this fandom but it's kind of my bread and butter, so, I hope you enjoy!

It’s routine now that sometime after dinner, Joyce curls up on the couch and inevitably falls asleep; she never means to- tells him she’s just getting off her feet for a minute, usually turns the television on for the noise, and ends up sound asleep, cheek pressed to the pillow. Hopper doesn’t mind- likes that he can look over the half-wall of the kitchen and see her sprawled out, a hand curved protectively over her middle and hair falling into her face.

When it had first started happening, Joyce had complained about Hopper not waking her up- said she felt bad, leaving him to clean up and do the dishes, but even after she woke up, she still slept all through the night, the first trimester draining all her energy. So it became easier to just let her sleep, especially since she didn’t even stir no matter how much noise he made.

After he’s rinsed the dishes and gotten them into the dishwasher and put the leftovers in the fridge, he’s settling down on the couch when Joyce awakens with a deep yawn, lifting up with a stretch that pulls her shirt taut and accentuates the small bump in her middle.

“You let me sleep again, didn’t you?” she asks accusingly, but there’s no venom to her voice, eyes still sleep-soft as she regards him, brushing her hair out of her eyes. Her lips part in another yawn, nose scrunching up, and she shifts to snuggle into his side, arm slipping around his waist. “I told you to let me do the dishes tonight.”

Hopper chuckles, brushing a kiss to her forehead before he tucks her head under his chin, trailing his fingers along her arm.

“I think the kid wanted you to rest,” he says in answer, his hand coming to rest against the small swell. It barely fits in his palm, but its there- tiny and firm and _there_ , against every odd, and he likes the feel of it under his hand.

“All I do is rest these days, it feels like,” Joyce complains, eyebrows contracting in annoyance that her voice doesn’t hold. “I was never this tired with the boys,” a poke to his stomach follows her words, and she bestows a fond smile on him.

The rest of the kids were out; enjoying the last drops of summer with their friends before school came back, and the silence of the house is nice. The dishwasher whirs softly in the background, and the television murmurs softly, flickering in the corner. Joyce settles more comfortably against him, sighing out softly against his neck.

“I’m going to fall asleep again,” her voice goes soft, and Hopper’s hand rubs a steady pattern over her back.

“Eh, I’ve got no plans. Feel free to use me as a pillow all you want,” he replies, pulling a sleepy giggle from her.

“Wake me up when it’s time for bed,” she mumbles, pressing her nose to his neck, and Hopper’s lips quirk into a smirk.

It’s hard, once he’s alone with his thoughts, not to feel overwhelmed. They had a kid going to college, two kids in high school, and a baby due in a matter of months; Joyce was contemplating going back to school herself, and he had Harrington as a new hire at the Station, making his days busier than they had been in years. Their house is too small; the way the Party was in and out like they owned the place, and Will and Jonathan shoved together with the baby coming until they could finish the basement into a suitable bedroom for Jonathan when he came home from college on breaks- something Harrington and surprisingly Robin had both promised to help him with- it felt like each free weekend seemed to slip away faster and faster.

As if she sensed his rising internal panic, Joyce shifted in her sleep and lifted a hand to lay over his heart, and something inside him soothed. It was stressful, yes- but they had each other. Hopper’s fingers found the slim ring encasing Joyce’s left ring finger, and he slid his thumb over it, the feeling of skin-warmed metal sending a burst of warmth through his heart.

The front door opens, but the kids have long since learned to be quiet when coming home; El and Will shut the door quietly behind them, and Hopper offers them a wave over Joyce’s head.

“Mom on her second nap of the day?” Will asks, amusement in his voice, and Hopper stifles a laugh.

“Think this might be her third, actually,” he says, and El’s giggle is soft and warm as she kicks off her shoes.

“Babies make you nap a lot,” she observes, eyebrows scrunching up, and Hopper snorts quietly, thumb rubbing along Joyce’s shoulder absentmindedly.

“At this point? Yeah, they do. It’ll get better, though,” he reminds her- El had had a lot of questions about pregnancy and babies when they had sat the kids down to tell them, and Joyce had done her best to help the teenaged girl understand. El nods, her smile soft, and leans over the back of the couch to drop a kiss to the top of Joyce’s head before turning her head to kiss her dad’s cheek.

“Going to take a shower. Goodnight,” she rests her head against his briefly before she heads upstairs, and Will follows after her with a quiet goodnight and a smile. Hopper remains on the couch, content to sit in the quiet with Joyce curled up beside him, warm and soft in his embrace.

They’d be okay; they always were. For now, he was happy to have everything he needed at his fingertips.


End file.
